


Chivalric Love

by flyingfoxtopus



Series: Domesticated Foxes [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Good Friends, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Ties the past to the main story, Unrequited Love, domesticated foxes, gay and in love, stucky fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25759165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingfoxtopus/pseuds/flyingfoxtopus
Summary: Montgomery Falsworth had a problem. A problem with big blue eyes, perfect sandy curls, and a smile like the sun. A problem who was never going to forgive him when he told him what he was about to do. Not that he can regret joining Captain America and the Howling Commandos. The sooner they finish this war, the fewer chances a certain someone has to get himself captured or killed.Bucky Barnes also has a problem. A best friend, who will only ever be his best friend, a best friend who is in love with an amazing woman, and who is a magnet for the kind of trouble that got a guy killed. Bucky will never abandon Steve, but he can at least dream of a world where the guy is a least a little more careful.(I know it says part 9, but it does stand alone if you're not up for that kind of commitment.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James Montgomery Falsworth/Original Male Character, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Domesticated Foxes [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1443574
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. A Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Jack Churchill is a real person. Who’s real-life was truly ridiculous. I have fictionalised him here. Making him a little bit younger than he was during the war, taking some other liberties (yeah, the obvious one, truth is he was married by all accounts quite happily), but keeping a lot of his exploits the same (He really did carry a long sword into battle, famously capturing more than 40 enemy combatants with it. He also had a personal bag piper, who you can see in the picture of him storming the beach in D-day.) Seriously look into Jack Churchill. He is crazy in the best way and he and Steve would absolutely have been friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised a pining Bucky, and I will deliver, but Monty deserves to be happy too.
> 
> I'm going to be posting a chapter Tuesday, Friday, Saturday for the next two weeks, some of them are shorter than others.

Montgomery Falsworth had a problem. A problem with big blue eyes, perfect sandy curls, and a smile like the sun. A problem who was never going to forgive him when he told him what he was about to do. He waved to the rest of his new team and turned towards Soho. Putting this conversation off wasn’t going to make it any easier. 

Jack Churchill grinned as he opened the door to his flat. He should pretend that this was a surprise, that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Monty might stop by tonight. The only real surprise was how long it had taken, and the only concession to the pretence Jack had been able to muster was changing for bed. Although given that he hadn’t bothered with a shirt and he knew Monty had a soft spot for this particular paisley dressing gown, it wasn’t too much of a concession. 

“You got my telegram?” Monty asked loosening his cravat. 

“I did.” Jack grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him inside. Shoving him against the door as it closed behind them. His mouth went to Monty's automatically. Kissing him with all the worried energy he'd been carrying since he’d heard about Monty’s capture. “I thought you were dead, you ass.” 

Monty laughed and ran his hands through Jack’s hair. “You don’t know the half of it.” 

“Get comfortable and tell me everything.” Jack laughed and made a b-line for the whiskey decanter. God, it was good to have his boy safe. “Do you have to be back tonight?” 

Monty shook his head and shrugged out of his jacket. “I'm on medical leave until at least tomorrow.” 

***** 

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” Jack Churchill stormed around his bedroom. Dressing gown falling open, pyjama pants slipping lower around his hips thanks to his agitated gate. This was not how this reunion was supposed to go. It was supposed to be romantic not infuriating. If there was one thing the blackouts should have been good for it was setting a mood. The single burning candle in a sheltered lamp cast a romantic glow over dark woodwork of his rooms. Monty had been rescued and was lounging half dress on the covers. They should be enjoying this reprieve and the fact that he hadn’t yet been forced to let some other officer board in his flat. 

It was not romantic. He was not enjoying himself. There was a strong possibility he was going to tear out his mustache in worry. 

He had smoked through half a dozen cigarettes listening to the story of Monty’s rescue. Monty had lit the last two for him since his hand was shaking too badly to keep the lighter flame steady. And now Monty was talking about going back. Not just going back. Joining some crazy hodgepodge coalition force, that had to be at least half propaganda stunt, and was almost certainly going to mean he was doing stupidly dangerous things somewhere Jack couldn’t even rescue him. 

It wasn’t fair. The fact this was exactly the kind of thing Jack would jump into with both feet completely missed the point. Jack was the reckless one. Monty was the level-headed one. That had always been their dynamic. Ever since university. Jack had been part of the expeditionary force that got stranded at Dunkirk. Monty had been a surveyor for the home defence. Jack had led a team into Norway. Monty had been comparatively safe in North Africa. Jack seemed to attack trouble better than a magnet. The only time Monty had gotten himself into trouble, before this, had been Dunkirk. And Jack had been allowed to go back for him then. Under cover of going back for the entire unit Monty was in, true, but he’d still been able to. 

Monty almost wished Jack would put on some clothes, or at least tie his robe shut. It was very distracting flapping open like that. Almost. It was a good kind of distracting. Thankfully Monty didn’t have to be on his best debating form. Jack wasn’t exactly arguing from a position of strength when it came to recklessness on the front lines. “That’s rich coming from the man who carried a carries medieval weaponry into combat with him.” 

“Leave my sword out of this. We're talking about you. You’re going to be behind lines. Doing who knows what. With some young blood yank, who has been in exactly one fire fight, leading you. You only just got out last time.” Jack said ticking off all the reasons Monty shouldn’t go on his fingers. The whole thing was a terrible reckless insane idea. Honestly, he was a little jealous, he hadn’t thought of it. But it wasn’t his life they were gambling with this time. 

Monty plucked Jack’s cigarette out of his hand and took a long drag. He still had his trump card. “Peggy Carter is going to be his intelligence liaison.” 

Jack froze. Michael Carter had been one of the best and smartest soldiers he had ever met. He had saved the lives of his entire squad that day in Norway. And the way he told it, he was a blathering idiot next to his brilliant baby sister. Something every report Jack had seen on the subject seemed to confirm. If Carter was looking out for them, they would have a better chance than most. “That does help.” 

He threw himself back onto the bed, kissing Monty's chest. “Couldn’t you just... I don’t know... Join the home office? You could work in a nice safe bunker somewhere. Looking sharp and filling things for some General who's high on his own propaganda.” 

Monty propped himself up on his elbows and raised his eyebrows. “I will, if you do.” 

“You drive a hard bargain Falsworth.” Jack growled rolling on top of Monty and stealing back his cigarette. Monty knew he wasn’t about to retire to a desk job. That was more likely to kill him then the Nazis were. 

Jack spent the next few hours reminding Monty exactly why he had to come back and come back in one piece. It was a very good thing that Jack’s neighbours were away just now, because neither of them was a quiet as good sense and prudence dictated. Eventually, with more kisses and needy caresses they both sunk back into the mattress and fell asleep. 

***** 

Morning was a strange sensation thanks to the blackout curtains. The sun was more warmth against the heavy drapes than actual light. Jack could have believed that it was still the middle of the night and they had all the time in the world to enjoy each other’s company. The clock on the mantle disagreed with that sentiment though, as did his own internal clock. They needed to start getting ready to face another day. 

Jack kissed Monty’s soft curls. As much as he didn’t want to get up, he could never be upset by a morning he got to wake up with Monty in his bed. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man. Although the way the war was going that might not be all that long. “When do you ship out?” 

“End of the week.” Monty rubbed Jacks chest. It wasn’t very long. And would probably both have duties that kept them busy before that. Especially since he officially lived in barracks, not here. “When do you?” 

“Probably before you.” Jack sighed and pulled Monty closer. The married men would be allowed to say goodbye to their wives at the train station. Hell, even the ones who only had sweethearts would be jostling for position at the windows so they could lean out for a kiss. He would be lucky if they could spend the night before he left together and get to say goodbye at all. Six and a half years and this might be the last time they saw each other at all.


	2. Birthday Presents

They were in London for 24 hours. Why were they in London for 24 hours? Couldn’t someone have wired the reports they needed to them, or send a special courier to a forward base? Monty paced the border between the airfield and the supply crates waiting to be loaded restlessly. It was such a useless amount of time. 

Monty knew that it wasn’t the 24 hours that upset him as much as it was the fact it was _these 24 hours_. Any other day he would be pleased at the prospect of a few square meals, a warm dry bed, and then getting straight back to business. Not today though. 

Today he was chaffing under the yolk of duty. That was a good line he should write that down for one of his private letters to Jack. The ones he couldn’t send. The ones that would forever live in his journal. 

Bucky dropped onto crate next to him. “Jacques’ normally the one who looks sour when we’re on this side of the channel. What’s got your socks in a bunch.” 

“Normally when we are in, we get leave.” Monty grumbled straightening his beret. 

Bucky kicked his feet up on a second crate. No, they didn’t. They got three hours at the officers’ club _if_ they were lucky. Every time it looked like they were going to get some time off, new intelligence came in and they ended up planning through it, if not cutting the whole thing short and heading back out to stop the whole damn war going sideways. “Come on Falsworth. Tell your Sarg what’s really bothering you.” 

Monty considered the sergeant. He was always a bit of an enigma. He and the Captain were practically joined at the hip. It seemed platonic. Certainly, the Captain didn’t have eyes for anyone other than Agent Carter, and Barnes flirted with anything in a skirt or that could conceivably wear a skirt in more gentile surroundings. But Falsworth hadn’t missed the looks. The ones Barnes directed at the Captain’s back when he thought no one was looking. He doubted anyone else had noticed, not if they weren’t familiar with that kind of pining. “Tomorrow is Jack Churchill's birthday. We are both in London. And we’re going to miss one another.” 

“What would you do if you could see each other?” Bucky asked folding his hands behind his head. It was nice to see love thriving in these dark times. All kinds of love. 

“There is a little club in Soho. Jack and frequent it when we can. We'd go for a drink. Maybe some dancing. Then we would head back to Jack’s flat and...” Monty weighed his exact wording. Even if he could trust Barnes it still never hurt to be circumspect. “Enjoy one another’s company. Just a dream.” 

“Not necessarily.” Bucky grinned. What was the point of being Captain America’s best friend if you couldn’t occasionally abuse the position? “Let me work my magic.” 

Monty studied Barnes intently. He was a good friend. It was a shame he had feelings for someone who wasn’t going to return them. “Barnes... Would you... Would you like to come out with us? You might meet someone you have something in common with. Our bar has some... interesting chaps.” 

“Thanks, but no thanks Monty.” Bucky watched Steve scrub a hand through his hair and start back towards them. “I’m not looking for any new friends just now.” 

“I got us bumped up the list. We're on the first flight in the morning so we won’t be wasting time sitting around waiting all day.” Steve announced tossing a clipboard onto their stack of supplies. 

“Just all evening.” Bucky snorted tossing Steve a canteen. “Seems like a shame.” 

“What’s a shame Buck?” Steve shoved Bucky’s feet off the crate and dropped into their place. 

Bucky set his feet back on Steve’s knee. Just because he was big now didn’t mean he was going to let the punk push him around. “Monty has a friend with a birthday tonight. He's going to be sitting around twiddling his thumbs and getting anxious instead of relaxing and enjoying himself.” 

Steve leaned back on his crate. At some point he was going to have to pull rank and lecture Bucky about the dignity of the uniform and respectful conduct around his captain. Which would lead to Bucky laughing in his face, telling him to fuck off, and reminding him that he once threw up on Bucky’s good shoes. That was the problem with having your best friend for your sergeant. No respect. “That is a shame. You should go. I'll sign the leave forms.” 

Monty perked up a little. Was that really all Barnes needed to do? Bat his pretty blue eyes and Captain Rogers would dance to his tune. Maybe those feelings weren’t so unrequited after all. “Are you sure, Captain?” 

“Sure.” Steve shrugged taking a sip from his canteen. “As long as you’re back in time for muster and you’re not too hung over. Bucky's right. You'll just be sitting around otherwise.” 

“I assure you, I will pace myself.” Monty said solemnly. No more than two drinks and early to bed... He could always sleep on the plane. 

“Then let’s get you signed out.” Steve heaved himself off the crate he was sitting on. Catching Bucky’s feet and dumping him over backwards in the process. 

Monty felt a swell of affection for his fellow officers. From the smiling Captain to the sergeant sprawled indignant on the grass. “Rogers. Thank you.” 

“No problem, Falsworth. Don’t make a habit of it.” Steve winked and motioned for Flasworth to lead the way towards the command offices so they could get his leave form. 

He was almost surprised that Bucky hadn’t asked to go too. Bucky got anxious if he sat still too long these days, and he loved a good party. There was always someone who wanted to fall in love with him, as he put it. Steve just hoped he would finish sewing his wild oats and settle down soon. How else would they make sure their kids were the same age? 

***** 

Monty was much more relaxed the next morning. Jack had loved his birthday surprise. Neither of them had wanted the night to end. Leading to a long snog against the door to Jack’s apartment while he was trying to leave. Monty would have to be careful about keeping his cravat done up if he didn’t want the others to see the love bite on his neck. He said a silent prayer of thanks that their unit didn’t have to follow uniform standards most of the time. 

He found his team waiting for their pilot at the edge of the grassy landing field. He clapped Pinky on the shoulder, and moved to stand next to Barnes. 

“You and Jack have a good night?” Bucky asked lighting a cigarette. The edge of a hicky was poking out of Monty’s scarf, but it would be rude not to ask. 

Monty straightened his beret. “We did. Thank you for setting it up.” 

“Any time.” Bucky blew a long stream of smoke into the early morning air. Together for years and still so in love they were upset about missing birthdays. It must be nice. 

Near the flight huts, Steve was trying to figure out why they weren’t in the air already. Bucky wondered if they were going to force Steve back to the States for his birthday. Probably, although they might be able to get the whole team leave. He wouldn’t mind watching the fireworks in DC. It would be a nice change if nothing else. 

“You should come, next time.” Monty said watching Barnes watch the Captain out of the corner of his eye. Maybe it was just Barnes' sharpshooter nature, he did tend to watch everything, but he definitely watched the Captain more intently than most things. 

Bucky smiled sadly and shook his head. He didn’t want to meet any interesting guys. There was only one guy who really interested him. He just hoped he could find a dame who could hold his interest half as well. “I told you. I’m not looking for anyone right now.” 

Monty stroked his moustache. He had assumed Barnes had a club of his own back in the States. If he’d never been to one, he might not understand what it was really like. “It’s not about looking. It is about having somewhere to be yourself.” 

“I’m always myself, Monty. I’m not a complicated man.” Bucky ground out the butt of his cigarette and started across the field. If was going to find a girl as interesting as Steve, he was going to need to meet more girls. Possibly daring ones, that enjoyed tempting fate. 

“Where are you going?” Monty shouted after him. 

“Flock of Fairies just landed.” Bucky called back. “I think they want to fall in love with me.” 

Monty shook his head as the Fairies swarmed around Bucky. How someone so obviously in love could flirt that vigorously with anyone other than the person they were in love with was beyond him. As was Barnes preference for women with pouty lips and soft curves. But judging by the way the pretty female pilots were already flocking around him they returned the sentiment.


	3. A Run In With Destiny

Bucky had no idea why he was the one alone in the attic office of the abandoned factory. No, that wasn’t true. He knew why it was him. He knew how he had let the others talk him into it. The only part that was a mystery was how he had let his normal boring life turn into something that he wouldn’t believe if he read it in a dime store novel. And even that had an answer. The same answer that ‘how did I end up in this situation’ always seemed to have when Bucky asked it. Steve. 

Not that Steve was here. Steve had taken Pinky, Happy, and Junior with him to conduct a parallel raid on the SS compound a few miles to the south. Bucky didn’t love letting Steve go off and get into trouble without him. None of the other guys called him out of his shit the way Bucky did, and Steve milked that freedom. But Bucky was undeniably the best climber, and no one wanted to mess with the bobby trapped stairs that lead up to the office they needed. Hydra were real bastards about what they left behind. Even going up the outside of the building was a risk. Their big hope was that Hydra had left in enough of a hurry that they had left something useful behind and hadn’t had time to set more than basic traps. 

It would have been nice if the climbable side of building was the one with the office he needed. But that would make his life easy, nothing his life hadn’t been easy since Steve had landed at his feet when he was eight, and it had gotten a lot less easy since Steve had dragged him out of an exploding factory in Austria. 

He felt cautiously around the door of the commander’s office. No trip wires. He eased the door open, letting out the breath he was holding when nothing happened. If no one had thought to burn the files, he was going to start calling it a good day. 

Moonlight trickled through the windows on the far side of the room, illuminating a figure bent over the desk. Bucky froze in shock. It was a girl. A woman. She turned to let the stream of light fall on the paper she was holding, illuminating her profile in process. A fucking gorgeous woman. All slim curves, and raven hair. Her jaw was sharp enough you could cut yourself on it. What was she doing up here? How did she _get_ up here? 

They had been watching the building for hours before he had made his attempt. It had definitely been abandoned. She couldn’t have come in the way he had. The stairs had ten pounds of Amatol wired to them in several places. And the side they hadn’t been watching faced onto a river gorge with a waterfall, there were fifty feet of water slicked rocks to get up before you even made it to the corrugated siding. 

She slid the paper she was reading into the bag on her hip. 

Bucky shifted into the room. He was not prepared for this. She didn’t look like a Hydra agent. Shooting first and asking questions later felt wrong with a dame on the other end of the barrel. 

She looked up at him, surprised. Plump lips forming a little ‘O’ that was amazingly kissable. Her eyes looked oddly purple in the silver glow of the room. Bucky would have called her hypnotic and tried to take her home if he met her in a club. Which made her presence here even more confusing. 

There was a long moment where they looked at each other, neither knowing what to do. Slowly, Bucky reached for his sidearm. He should question her at least, and he couldn’t just leave her here, this was hostile territory for pretty much everyone. 

The woman moved before Bucky could get to his gun. Vaulting across the desk, a knife flashing into her hand. 

Bucky fumbled the gun into his hand and managed to get three shots off before she made it across the room. They all missed. Which didn’t make sense. Bucky didn’t miss. Not at this range. 

There was no time to consider the odds of all his shots going wide. She was on him, blade flashing. 

He dodged, shoulder bouncing off the wall as he tried to get away. Bucky dropped his gun and grabbed his knife, bringing it up quickly to parry her. She was fast. Faster than anyone he’d ever been in a knife fight with. Not faster than some of the guys he’d been in fist fights with, and it wasn’t that different. Not really. 

He caught her wrist with his and slammed it into the doorframe. Her blade clattered away. Bucky didn’t have time to gloat. 

She launched herself at him again. Landing two vicious strikes to his elbow, made Bucky yelp and drop his own knife. She snatched it out of the air, rearming herself. 

It would have been impressive. Except for the part where if meant that Bucky was unarmed against the wild cat that apparently wanted him dead. He back pedalled again. Trying to put more space between the two of them. He was in so much trouble. 

Bucky swallowed a scream as the blade slid into his bicep. He stumbled away from her desperately. 

The desk chair caught in the knees, sending him sprawling to the floor and knocking his breath out of him. His feet tangled in the chair legs, one of them smacking hard against his ankle, immobilising him further. He waited for the woman to land the killing blow. 

It didn’t come. She just stood over him, looking down at him with a curious expression. 

“ _Anata wa unmei de kagayakimasu._ ” She dropped his knife next to his head where it stuck into the wood, and rifled through the files she had stolen, pulling out a handful of papers and dropping them on the floor next to the knife. “Here you can keep this one. Schmidt is a problem.” 

Bucky was in too much pain to even try and figure out what she meant by that. His blood spread across the floor from the cut on his arm, his elbow and one ankle throbbing in time with his too fast heart. 

She started back towards the desk and the window over the gorge. Stepping on Bucky’s arm on the way by. 

The pain made Bucky black out. 

***** 

Bucky tumbled out of the window he had entered through and into the middle of his waiting team. It was a semi-controlled tumble; he only actually fell about eight feet. Landing on his sore ankle didn’t help. They guys were all still sitting around only partly on guard. Dugan had a cigar out for Christ’s sake. It was good to know they were worried about him. 

Falsworth jumped to his feet in shock, at the sight of Bucky clutching his arm with red stained fingers. “Bloody hell, what happened?” 

“There was a girl.” Bucky growled through gritted teeth. 

“A girl? You were supposed to be finding any files they left, not flirting.” Dugan rescued the paper Bucky was clutching before he smeared any more blood on it. 

“Will you help me with my damn arm?” Bucky winced as he stripped off his jacket. At least his knife was sharp, they wouldn’t have to pick threads out of the cut. “I wasn’t flirting. She was there for the files too. She was a damn spy. Like Carter, only I think she was Japanese.” 

“Japanese?” Dugan said thoughtfully. He turned over the recovered document, it was exactly what they were looking for. “Think the bad guys are infighting?” 

“Looks like it. She said Schmidt was a problem and gave me those.” Bucky waved the bloodstained knife he still hadn’t put down at the papers. Good steel was hard to come by these days. He’d waste some water out of his canteen in cleaning it before he put it away. 

Falsworth looked up at the window Barnes had used as an entry and exit. There were bloody handprints on the frame, clearly visible in the moonlight. The entire window was illuminated as was the rest of the wall. “How did she get out without going by us?” 

“No fucking idea.” Bucky rolled the knife in his hand and started cutting away his shirt. Taking off his jacket had been excruciating. He wasn’t going to do that again if he could help it. “I was a little distracted by the whole stabbed me with my own fucking knife thing.” 

“With your own knife? Damn Sarg. How pretty was she that you let her take it off you. Why didn’t you shoot her?” Dugan lit a lantern, while Morita started unpacking the med kit. 

“I didn't _let_ her do anything. Bitch has skills.” Bucky snarled and finished peeling off his shirt. The jacket was salvageable, the shirt less so. He had shot at her. He hadn’t missed like that since his third day of basic when he figured out how the sights worked. “She was damn pretty though. Exotic. Purple eyes.” 

Morita froze, needle half threaded. “Purple eyes?” 

“Yeah. Why?” Bucky frowned. He was really not in the mood for a conversation. The only thing worse than getting stitched up, was waiting to get stitched up. 

“What colour was her hair?” Morita looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“I don’t know. Didn’t have a fucking flashlight out, did I? Black, maybe brown.” Bucky popped the cap off the disinfectant with his teeth. He managed not to scream as he splashed it over his bicep. He hated the way it stung, but he hated the idea that he would be out of commission with an infection even more, or worse, if it got infected and penicillin didn’t work, he could lose the arm. He liked his arms. 

“Okay. That’s okay then.” Morita nodded. His eyes quiet losing their haunted quality. He cupped Bucky’s elbow and set the first stich to close the cut. 

“What’s okay? And watch it with that needle will ya?” Bucky closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He really hated stitches. 

Morita dug the needle back into Bucky’s flesh. He tried to keep the stitches neat. The light wasn’t great for this. It helped that Bucky went statue still when you needed to work on him. The Captain did too, both of them credited Steve’s mother and a childhood of getting into fights. “I think you may have just met a demon. But as long as she didn’t have white hair, we should be fine. Did she say anything? Anything cryptic I mean.” 

“Uhh. _Anata wa unmei de kagayakimasu_. Something like that.” That exactly. It was unnerving how clearly Bucky’s mind could recall details lately. Ever since he’d been captured. Everything was too sharp. Too clear. It scared him sometimes. Wasn’t that one of they symptoms of shell shock? He couldn’t ask anyone. If they found out how messed up he was these days, they would send him home, and someone needed to look after Steve. 

“Destiny. Definitely a demon.” Morita tied off the thread and reached for the bandages. His hands had started to shake again. 

Dugan eyed Morita skeptically. Obviously worried that his teammate was losing it. “Okay. Take a deep breath. We got something. Maybe it’s a plant and this is what they want us to know, but it is still something. We'll fill Cap in as soon as he gets back. He can figure out what to do from there.” 

“Maybe leave off the demon thing.” Monty said evenly. The less said about the supernatural the better. Although if they were being hunted by a demon, Jack’s sword might make him tag along and Monty could keep an eye on him. 

Bucky agreed. This war was too weird without Morita’s childhood boogeymen coming into it, and the woman he had fought had been pretty freaking solid. The bruise on his elbow proved that, it hurt almost as much as the gash in his other arm. He doubted a demon would use his own knife on him and then just leave. 

“We’re keeping the part where Barnes got stabbed by a girl though, right?” Dugan grinned around his cigar. 

“Go to hell.” Bucky grumbled letting the stout man pull him to his feet. He shrugged his jacket back on. It was time to go find Steve and figure out how the other half of the night had gone. And after that get the hell out of the country.


	4. A Nap

Steve was ten minuets late to the rendezvous. Which in and of itself wasn’t that unusual. Steve hadn’t been punctual back in Brooklyn either. When he and the others did arrive, they did so at a run. Which also wasn’t all that unusual these days. Combined with the first thing it didn’t necessarily mean anything, Steve really did try to make their rendezvous. He got anxious when the team was split up for too long too. 

Bucky shoved himself off the tree, carefully cradling his left arm so he didn’t jar it. “We had a development while you were away.” 

Steve looked over his shoulder the way they had come, listening for the sound of pursuit. “Great. That’s great. Is yours worse than being followed by two team of SS with dogs?” 

Bucky smacked the back of Steve’s helmet. His best friend was a reckless idiot. Two SS teams with dogs. What next, a whole tank division? 

“Owe. What was that for?” Steve rubbed the back of his head. It wasn’t like this was the first time they’d been followed. Explosions tended to draw attention and he was pretty sure the Germans had orders to leave their posts if there was an opportunity to capture him. 

Bucky glared. The answer was obvious. “I got stabbed and let a Japanese agent get away with most of the papers we were after, and I’m still only the second biggest fuck up here.” 

“You can lecture me after we lose them.” Steve said grabbing Gabe’s radio pack and slinging it over his should. He could take the weight without slowing any of them down. They would also be talking about Bucky getting himself stabbed, just as soon as they weren’t about to die. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and shifted his rifle to his right shoulder. Running with an injured arm was going to hurt. 

***** 

Twelve miles, two rivers, and a half rotten tree over a gully, all taken at a dead run, later, the commandos dropped exhausted into a clearing. Bucky pressed his back against a tree and slowly slid to the ground. He’d been ranging wide around the rest of the team looking for scouts or stray Germans. He’d run at least twice as far as the others, and he’d been right. His entire left arm was on fire. At least they had finally lost pursuit. Steve was running one last sweep of their back trail, but Bucky doubted he would find anything. The last sign he’d seen or heard had been almost an hour ago on the other side of the gully. With the tree they had used as a bridge now in the stream at the bottom, the trail should fade before they found away around with the dogs. 

The crack of a branch being stepped on announced the captain’s return. Everyone except Bucky turned to look at him. Bucky just let his head fall back in relief. Steve was coming back at a walk. No more running, at least for a while. 

Steve dropped his helmet in Bucky’s lap before sliding down next to him. “Alright team. Looks like we lost our tale. We'll grab a few hours kip here. Move out around 1500. I don’t feel like climbing that ridge in the dark. We'll stop on the other side until it gets dark. Then straight shot to the border.” 

“Goin’ out on a limb and sayin' no fire, which means no hot coffee.” Bucky palmed the blue metal dome in his lap and set it backwards on his head, blocking out the morning light. If they weren’t running, he was sleeping. “Wake me if the Germans find us or decide to surrender.” 

Monty kicked Barnes boot. The Sergeant was skipping steps. “We need to assign watches.” 

Steve shook his head. It was going to take more than that to get Bucky up at this point. “I’ll take the second night watch. Buck will take the first. Morita, I'm sticking you on dawn. The rest of you figure today out.” 

“You’re makin' it fucking hard to sleep over here.” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms tighter across his chest. 

“No one sleeps until they clean their weapons and check their straps.” Monty replied crisply. There were procedures for a reason. If something went wrong, they didn’t want to be dealing with loose gear on top of an unpleasant wake up. 

Bucky shoved the helmet up so he could see. “Hey Monty?” 

“Barnes.” Monty wasn’t sure where Barnes was going with this, but he didn’t think it was going to be a sharp 'yes sir' and jumping to follow orders. 

“Fuck you.” Bucky said evenly. He tipped the helmet over his eyes again. He was sore, he was laying down. There was no way he was going to change that to check something he could deal with on his watch. He crossed his ankles. The strap on his rifle was fine. Everything else was less important than sleep. 

Steve propped his feet on Bucky’s shin. Bucky bounced his leg, the familiar jostling reassured Steve. All they had to do was make it back across the line to the airstrip. Three days and they would be safely back in London with a week of leave to look forward to. Leave for everyone other than Steve at least. Steve would be stuck in meetings. He never seemed to get actual leave. 

He would be able to steal a few hours with Peggy at least. That would be nice. Steve prodded Bucky’s foot with a toe. “We’re going ring shopping when we’re back. For real this time.” 

Bucky's lips twitched, just visible under the helmet. “Yeah, Stevie. We’ll find something nice for your girl.” 

Monty watched the exchange quietly. How much would it hurt to help Jack pick out a ring so he could marry someone else? Would he be able to take that kind of pain with a smile the way Bucky did? A little good-natured insubordination might help him blow off some steam. Monty would forgive him for today. 

***** 

Steve was commandeered by the colonel as soon as their plane set down. Leaving the rest of the team to deal with checking in and resupplying. Checking in meant finding Peggy in the warren under the war office. 

Something Bucky wasn’t looking forward to. Peggy Carter was intimidating at the best of times. They were late. Which meant she would be worried. Which made her even more intimidating. Bucky knocked softly on the door to Peggy’s office. It swung open, revealing the furious pacing woman he had expected. Bucky tried to smile charmingly. “107th, reporting in.” 

“Where the hell have you been?” Peggy tapped her toe irritably against the floor. She had been waiting for hours. Radio conformation when they reached the plane, then nothing. They were late for their landing. They could have been shot down. They could have crashed. And what could she have done about it? Not a damn thing. Because _she_ was a woman and therefore largely confined to the war rooms under London. Where all she could do was wring her hands and pray. There were few things she hated more than being helpless. 

“Easy Pegs.” Bucky held up his hands placatingly. His charm had never worked on Carter. “There was a headwind. Steve will give you the full rundown once he’s done with his official debrief.” 

“I'm allowed to worry. Who knows what kind of trouble you boys get into when you don’t take me with you?” Peggy snapped. She should be allowed to go with them. She should be Steve’s lieutenant. She had more than enough experience, the only thing Falsworth had that she didn’t was a penis. Falsworth didn’t even need to transfer, Steve could have two lieutenants and a sergeant. Lord knew he needed as many nannies as he could get. Her lovely boy was many things, and unfortunately one of those things was a magnet for trouble. 

“You think I’d let anything happen to Steve?” Bucky snarled, dropping his hands. 

Peggy relented. There was no one she trusted to look after Steve more than Barnes. “No. Of course not.” 

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated fighting with Peggy. Steve loved her. She was a part of their lives now and if he wanted to keep what he had with Steve, he had to accept that. She was good for Steve. She saw the real him. Not just the beef cake poster boy they had turned him into. And she was the best intelligence agent they had worked with. No one else could do what she did, and what she did kept Steve safe. When he was being rational, he like her. Especially with Steve. She was just so good to him. Bucky had never met a woman better suited to his punk. “Work talk. You ever run into a Japanese agent? One with purple eyes?” 

Peggy pursed her lips. Being late might be the least of their problems. That was an odd question. Odd questions were never good. “Can’t say that I have.” 

“Damn. Hoped she was a known quantity.” Bucky said passing her the few sheets of intel they had recovered. New players always made things more complicated. Especially since there was no way purple eyes was _new_ new. She was too good to not have been doing this for a while. 

Peggy inspected the red brown smears on the paper. “You had an unpleasant interaction I take it?” 

“You could say that.” Bucky raised his injured arm ironically. Which was a mistake, it objected painfully. It should probably be in a sling, but he hated how restrictive they were. He preferred having full range of motion in both arms, even if one of them hurt like hell. He cradled it back against his side and moved to perch on the edge of the desk. He was going to have to be good and take it easy at least for the next week. Longer if he could convince Steve to stay home for a while. “Morita thinks she’s a demon.” 

Peggy dropped heavily into the desk chair. Work would take her mind off the unfairness of the world. And demon was one she hadn’t heard before at least. “Talk me through it from the beginning.”


	5. An Evening Out

Monty was waiting when Bucky finally emerged from his debrief. The fact he had still been in with Peggy once Monty was done with the quartermaster meant it had been an intense few hours. Barnes and Carter didn’t faff about when there was work to do. “Come out with me and Jack tonight.” 

Bucky shook his head and lit his third cigarette of the afternoon. He was going to run out at this rate. Then he would have to find someone to barter with for them or pay an arm and a leg for contraband ones. “I don’t need a 'friend' Monty.” 

“No.” Falsworth understood. When you found the one, you found the one. Even if they were a terrible fit. “But I suspect you could use a drink, and there will be dancing.” 

Bucky sighed. He did like dancing, and dancing with someone who didn’t expect anything from him sounded great. “One beer.” 

***** 

A night out with Monty and Jack was a raucous distracting affair. They were obviously regulars at the club. The bartender knew them by sight and had their drinks ready before they made it to the bar. Their friends welcomed Bucky warmly. There was good English beer, darts, and a number of people of both sexes that were more than happy to dance with Bucky. Despite his bum arm, Bucky managed to impress his dancing partners, a couple even offered to take him home for the night. He turned them down, but did take Falsworth up on the second beer. Monty was right. He had needed a drink, and a chance to unwind and be himself. 

Bucky set down his empty pint glass with a sigh. “You were right I needed this.” 

“There’s a lad.” Jack clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder. “You’re rather handsome when you don’t look like a storm cloud. Let me introduce you to my friend George. He’s over at the bar.” 

“Thanks, but no thanks, Jack. I’m really not looking. Think I'll go crash.” George was cute, sandy curls, sharp cheekbones, and bright blue eyes. It was a shame Bucky had sworn off blonds, it was just awkward when he ended up calling them by the wrong name. Bucky clapped Falsworth on the back of the neck. “Might even be able to get a full night’s sleep without this one’s snoring to keep me up.” 

Monty caught Bucky’s arm before he could leave. Barnes had gotten that look in his eyes again. “You can always talk to me. You know that, right?” 

Bucky squeezed Monty’s hand back. “You’re a good friend Monty. I'll see you at the team lunch tomorrow. Dum Dum said something about Peggy brining marmalade.” 

***** 

The night was cool and crisp, it had rained earlier in the evening, leaving everything damp and sparkling under a full moon, perfect for a walk. Bucky lit a cigarette and started for home. Dawdling along the pavement. The moon was just a crescent, but it still gave more than enough light for Bucky to navigate the city. Bucky stopped at the end of the street. Saint Anne’s Church stood silhouetted against the sky. He hated the way his brain immediately picked out the best sniper’s nest, but he could see it. It wasn’t the very top of the bell tower by the clock, the elevation was good, but the tight space would limit the shooting angle. It was halfway down the tower, through the slats that surrounded the largest bells. You’d have to shoot standing, but you could rest the barrel on the slats to keep it steady and there would be room to maneuver. He could map a path to climb up the outside of the tower too, even in the dark. 

He took another long drag on his cigarette. Would he ever not be able to see it? When all this was over and he was finally able to go home, would he still watch scan rooftops for enemy snipers, or wake up in the middle of the night to listen for threats? 

Life after the war. It sounded like a fantasy. It would happen. They would win. They would go home. Steve and Peggy would get married, and he… well he would figure it out. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women. He did. He loved how pretty and soft they were. He just hadn’t found one that made his heart flutter the way Steve did. Which didn’t mean all that much. He hadn’t found a guy that did either. Bucky leaned against a lamp post and looked up at the stars. 

Had he ever really given any of the people he had taken out a chance? Or had he compared all of them to the person he couldn’t have. Steve was just so… Steve. His crush hadn’t gotten any easier to deal with since Steve’s miraculous transformation. His little ball of poorly contained righteous fury had turned into a mountain of perfectly sculpted muscles… that was still mostly poorly contained righteous fury. One that now got to live past his 30th birthday, assuming he didn’t do something stupid between now and then. And one that still had the big blue eyes that drove him crazy. 

The sound of whistles broke into Bucky’s depressed musings. He turned towards the sound, back the way he had come. A whole flock of black clad policemen were crowded around the far end of the street. They were raiding the club. 

Shit. Didn’t they have anything better to do? 

Bucky’s cigarette landed in a puddle as he bolted. He needed to get back to base _now_. 

*****

“Get up. We have a problem.” 

The pillow hit Steve square in the face. Jolting him out of a dream where he and Peggy had been rowing across the lake in central park. Any other time he would be irritated at Bucky for waking him up, but not when his best friend looked like he was being chased by a pack of ghosts. 

No, that wasn’t true. Steve could never be mad at Bucky for waking him up. Buck would never disturb his sleep without a very good reason. Steve had listened to him dress down a Corporal, with no regard for chain of command, all because the man had thought Hydra troop movements were urgent enough to interrupt Steve’s first real sleep in a month, the mother hen. 

Which meant whatever problem Bucky thought was important enough to wake him up probably wasn’t just bad. In all likelihood, it was a disaster. “Schmidt?” 

Bucky shook his head but didn’t relax. At this point action from Hydra would actually be preferable. “Falsworth’s been arrested for lewd acts.” 

“Falsworth? They have to have the wrong guy.” Steve rolled into a sitting position. Bucky wasn’t making any sense. Monty was the best behaved of all the Howling Commandos. He was the one who help reign the others in when they were out carousing. Steve never had to write him up for being drunk or disorderly. There were never issues with angry boyfriends or brothers. 

Bucky tossed Steve’s dress uniform at him. They were going to need the authority if they were going to pull this off. “They don’t. Which means we have to move fast, before they start asking awkward questions.” 

Steve hastily started buttoning his shirt. There wouldn’t be awkward questions if Monty had just been caught with a girl. Even one he’d paid for. Awkward questions meant there was more going on here. “Anything else?” 

“Yeah. See if you can get Jack Churchill out too.” Bucky ran through everything else that still needed to happen. First order of business, wake up the rest of the team. He grabbed his jacket and started for the door. 

“Bucky.” Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm to stop him running off. Jack Churchill he could handle. That wasn’t why he’d asked. 

“What?” Bucky looked at him in surprise. Steve sounded almost… angry. 

“Were you with them?” Steve studied Bucky’s face. They might not talk about it, but he knew that there were clubs Bucky didn’t take him to, that Bucky stepped out with pretty boys almost as often as he stepped out pretty girls. He understood why guys would want to be more than friends with Buck. Bucky was easily the most handsome guy Steve had ever met. He was kind and loyal. Anyone would be lucky to have Bucky in their life. 

“Does it matter?” Bucky pulled his arm out if Steve grip. Did Steve know about him? About how he felt? Would that be better or worse? 

“Yeah. It matters if my best friend is going to be fucking arrested.” Steve didn’t really care who Bucky went with. As long as he still had his friend. He fought his way through occupied territory to break Bucky out, he wasn’t about to let anyone else lock him up either. 

Bucky was pretty sure his heart had just stopped. He had to remind himself to keep his breathing even. Steve’s eyes when he was passionate about something had always been enough to take his breath away. Not that he could keep that look for himself. Steve was going to marry Peggy and live happily ever after, with none of the complications that plagued Bucky. But God it felt good to have that fire directed at him for once. “I’m not going to be arrested.” 

“Okay.” Steve took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Bucky was safe. That was the important thing. “Let’s go abuse some privilege.” 

***** 

The other Commandos were awake. Clustered together around the foot of Junior’s cot. Junior was friends with a couple of MPs. Someone must have already filled them in. Bucky wished useful intelligence moved through the army half as fast as gossip did. Bucky tried not to worry about what exactly the gossip had said. It was probably all lies anyway. “Good you’re already awake. You need to back Cap up. He's on his way to bail out Monty.” 

Bucky ignored the confused and worried looks on their faces, grabbing clean shirts and jackets out of footlockers and shoving them into hands. Falsworth had saved the life of everyone in the room at least once. They could save him this once... And if they couldn’t get their heads out of their asses and manage that, Bucky would deal with them later. “Keep him out of trouble. Don’t let him get lippy with the MPs. Step on his foot if it looks like he’s going to argue.” 

“Where are you going to be while we keep him out of trouble?” Morita asked. He hadn’t done up any of his buttons yet. 

“To get us the kind of help we need.” Bucky knew what they needed, and he thought he knew who could find it for them. 

“Barnes. Is it true? Is Monty....” Dugan trailed off. 

“Monty is Monty. The same irritating prick who makes us coffee in the morning and tells us off for not taking care of our gear.” Bucky said sharply, shoving Dugan’s hat onto his head and straightening his tie. He was going to need to look presentable himself before the end of this. What he didn’t need was to waste time explaining why there was nothing wrong with Monty’s love life. Hell, he had the healthiest relationship of any of them, except maybe Gabe. 

Dugan considered for a few seconds. Then he nodded sharply and buttoned his uniform jacket all the way up. “You heard the Sarg. Let’s get the lead out.” 

***** 

Bucky took a minute to do some recon on the building that housed ATS and the female agents of the SOE, and most importantly as far as he was concerned, Peggy Carter. He didn’t feel like talking his way past the matron at one in the morning, and Peggy's room was on the third floor. Thankfully this wasn’t the first woman’s only residence he had broken into. His injured arm complicated things a little, but he could more than manage. 

A running start and a well-placed step on the dust bins got him as far as the ledge around the first story. From there he could shuffle down to the drainpipe and shimmy the rest of the way up. In less than two minutes he was tapping on Peggy’s window. 

Bucky wasn’t overly surprised when the first thing through the window was her service revolver. Peggy was paranoid. Appropriately paranoid in Bucky’s opinion. He softly whistled the all clear to reassure her. 

Peggy shook her head to clear it. That was not a noise she was expecting to hear. She lowered her pistol to take a better look at her invader. “Barnes? It's the middle of the night? Why are you--“ 

Bucky swung through the window. Dropping silently to the floor with its threadbare rug. “Monty was just arrested. He was with Jack. I already sent Steve to see if he can get them out, but I don't know how well that is going to go without some plausible deniability.” 

Peggy pursed her lips. That was bad. And suspected sedation or deviants in the Howling Commandos could lead to a purge in all of the unconventional warfare teams. No one wanted that. Barnes was right, they needed some deniability. Preferably deniability that didn’t lead to more awkward explanations later. “Doris and Evelyn are down the hall. We can ask, but I can't promise they will help.” 

“I knew you were a girl with connections Pegs.” Bucky grabbed her uniform jacket and gave it a quick brushing down. “Let's shake a leg before someone leaks to the press.” 

Peggy blanched. She had completely forgotten about the press. A whisper of this story could undermine months of propaganda efforts. She grabbed the uniform from Bucky and hurried to get dressed. She wasn’t about to lose the war because of a bunch of prudes. 

***** 

A quick word to Junior’s friends told the squad where the MPs were holding Monty. None of them were comforted by the fact they had been taken to the tower of London. Steve tried to convince himself that it was only because they were tight on space. Monty was an officer. They weren’t going to cram him into a cell full of enlisted men or civilians. That’s what Steve told himself anyway. 

He spotted Monty as soon as they entered the wing with the jail. Third holding cell from the end, sitting on the cell’s cot, head in his hands, no obvious injuries. Nothing obvious meant Monty would probably be cleared for field work by the time they shipped out, they wouldn’t be without their lieutenant, Steve set aside one worry at least. He pushed past the MPs that had escorted him in. Leaving their objections to be handled by the other Commandos. “Falsworth! Are you okay? Are they treating you alright?” 

“I’m fine Captain.” Monty replied sheepishly. He hung his head, rubbing his neck. It was like having his mother called to his school. If the Captain had just left well enough alone it probably would have all blown over by morning. There was no reason Steve and the other Commandos needed to be mixed up in this mess. Unless Barnes had been picked up too. Monty didn’t think he had been, given when he had left, he should have been well clear before the raid. “You didn’t have to come down here.” 

Jack thrust a hand through the bars, ignoring his boyfriend’s protests. Monty’s team didn’t _need_ to be here, but it was encouraging to see that they were. “You must be Rogers. I've heard so much about you.” 

Locked up in the same cell and Monty and had heard stories, this had to be the Jack Churchill Bucky had told him to look out for. He seemed like a good guy, gregarious, calm under pressure. Definitely the kind of guy Steve could have a beer with. He filed away a mental note to remorselessly mock Monty for not bringing Jack to team drinks once this was all over. He was sure Bucky would back him on that, and the others would follow his lead, if they didn’t like it, they would learn. Their team was a family. Family meant unconditional love. “Churchill. I’ve heard a fair amount myself. That stunt you pulled in Tromsø was inspired.” 

“Oh, that.” Jack waved away the compliment. It had just been a small ambush, in the middle of the night, in the snow, nothing too impressive. Most Nazi’s died when you blew them up. “Needs must and all.” 

“Could you pretend to take this seriously?” Monty snapped joining them at the bars. This wasn’t a casual run in at the officers' club, they were in jail. 

“Why would I do that?” Jack snorted, leaning more casually against the bars. “The whole thing is a joke. We didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“We know you didn’t, bunny.” A blonde woman dressed for dancing bustled into the jail, trailed by Peggy, Bucky and a second equally dolled up dark haired woman. “I’m sorry Evie and I ran away, we just got so scared. Barnes and Carter told us what happened, and we knew we had to come.” 

Jack shared a confused look with Monty. Bunny? He had never met this woman before in his life. Monty shrugged and flicked his eyes towards Carter and Rogers. Right. The strategic geniuses were going to get them out of this, all they had to do was go with it. Jack reached through the bars for the woman who had spoken. “Oh, kitten. You know I can never stay mad at you.”


	6. A Rescue

Between the force of nature that was the entirety of the Howling Commandos and the apparent proof of two adoring girlfriends, it was less than an hour before Monty and Jack were free of the cell. The women and the Commandos flanked them protectively on the way out of the tower. 

Steve sighed. Crisis averted. There was still a possibility that there would be more fall out, but out of sight was out of mind. As long as Monty and Jack kept their heads down for a while, they should be in the clear. The raid had been stupid, but sometimes you had to count the small victories. “Alright, back to bed everybody. Ladies, thank you for your assistance. Men, we’ve got war room seven for 0800 tomorrow.” 

The Commandos filed past, each taking a moment to slap Monty on the back or squeeze his shoulder. Subtle little indications that nothing had changed now that they knew. Monty felt like he could cry. They were better friends than he had any right to. He had lied to them, he had broken the law, even if it was a ridiculous law, he knew what most of society thought about his life, and his friends still cared, they were still there for him at the drop of a hat. 

Steve patted Monty on the back, his other hand folded firmly between both of Peggy’s. “I’m going to walk the girls home. You’ll probably be asleep before I get back. I’m going to tell you the same thing I tell the others when they get into trouble. Misadventure is not a reason to be late for morning call.” 

“Of course, Captain.” Monty smiled back at him. Overwhelmed by the sense of family that had found him tonight. Next to him, Jack bumped his shoulder. Still firmly by his side. Monty nudged him back. The world was anything but perfect, but he was surrounded by love in many forms. 

Steve smiled one more time before the girls fell into step around him. Peggy linking her arm through his. Doris and Evelyn walking a few paces ahead, talking affectionately. 

Monty watched them until they disappeared into the dark. Escorting the women was more than the Captain being chivalrous, more even than him looking for an excuse to bow out gracefully and give the men time to talk. Bad things had been known to happen to women walking alone in the black out. Which made the raid on the club an even more galling waste of resources. They weren’t hurting anyone. They had just been trying to live their lives. 

Jacks tug on his hand brought him back to the present. There was still one person that had neglected to say goodbye. Monty found Bucky leaning casually against a wall, acting like this wasn’t all his doing. 

Jack tugged on Monty’s hand, pulling him towards their reluctant saviour. “Stop acting shy. We need to thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me.” Bucky shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. All he’d done was tell the people who could do something about the problem. “Steve and the girls did the heavy lifting. Buy Steve a bottle of something strong and take the girls out a few times. They’ll appreciate it. Everyone likes to dance.” 

“Oh?” Jack raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his amusement as he looked at the man he loved out of the corner of his eye. Did he look that wistful when he thought about Monty? “Does your Captain like to dance?” 

Bucky snorted and lit himself a cigarette. “Steve’s the exception that proves the rule. He hasn’t even managed to take Peggy dancing yet.” 

“See you in the morning, Monty.” Bucky jammed one hand into his pocket and loafed away. He needed another walk. And maybe a stronger drink, although cheep whiskey wasn’t as strong over here. He’d need to down a full bottle of the stuff before he started to feel tipsy. Far cry from the gut rot he could buy back in Brooklyn, that stuff made you go blind after a couple of shots. God, some days he missed Brooklyn. 

Jack watched their guardian angle slink into the dark as baffled by the man as ever. “Was dancing a euphemism?” 

Monty leaned against his side. Barnes claimed he wasn’t a complicated person, but he was definitely an enigma. “I have no bloody idea.” 

***** 

Monty took a deep breath. This was the first time the whole team would be together since his run in with the law. Everyone had been good about things last night, but who knew where they came down now that they’d had time to sleep on it. 

Steve barely flicked his eyes up before sending a file skidding across the table to land perfectly in line with Monty’s usual spot. “Take a look at these. The 86th stumbled over a Hydra store house we didn’t have eyes on.” 

Steve turned his attention back to the survey map Bucky was marking up. The others were all pouring through their own folders make notes and nihilistic jokes about how dangerous their plan was. Steve couldn’t blame them. They were all well past the average life span of agents dropped behind the lines. They’d pulled off crazier plans than this one. Steve had a good feeling. 

Monty looked around the table. It looked exactly the same. His world had shifted, and they were all acting like nothing had changed. “None of you are mad?” 

Dugan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up Monty seriously. “The way I see it, this is just less competition for me.” 

“And Dum Dum needs all the help he can get.” Bucky chuckled, kicking his feet up on the table and tucking his red pencil behind his ear. 

“I wouldn’t if you’d stay away.” Dugan shoved Bucky’s boots. “You don’t give a guy a chance Barnes.” 

“What can I say, ladies love me,” Bucky stretched his hands over his head and pushed his chair up on two legs. “I’m fucking pretty.” 

“Hey, pretty boy.” Steve kicked Bucky’s chair leg, sending him sprawling. “You’re supposed to be working out an exfil route.” 

Monty shook his head and sat down at the table. Maybe nothing had changed. Maybe his friends would be his friends no matter what. “Pass me that wire transcript. Let’s find some Nazis.”


End file.
